[Immortal Technique]
My rhymes are harder to digest for money
Than coke balloons in a Colombian broad's tummy
You f**ing dummy, I'm like a f**ing firing squad
You get a empty feeling like you lying to God
Lucifer status, you goin' crazy like crack addicts
Acid tabs, mad hatters and talking jack rabbits
Pack an automatic, you don't know me money
I'll smack the sh** out you like you owe me money
Immortal Technique, body strapped up with plastique
Leave a crater like a meteor landed in the street
My presence, еven backed with an essence stays hard
Like f**ing on a Native American graveyard
My peoples spirit still stands defiant
Until American falls and they stand in triumph
Lyrical Nephilim giant, Look me up in the bible
The son of the son, Genesis 6
Homicidal